


Dear Sir

by mycitruspocket



Category: Maurice (1987), Maurice - E. M. Forster
Genre: Insecurity, Longing, M/M, True Love, letswriterupertgraves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 06:51:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/859145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mycitruspocket/pseuds/mycitruspocket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec had never done this before, writing a letter to someone so precious to him, there had simply never been a person he ever cared about so deeply, even if he barely knew him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Sir

**Author's Note:**

> This little ficlet takes place as Alec writes his letter to Maurice in the boathouse and was written for Rupert Graves' 50th Birthday.
> 
> Thanks to my dear Erasmus_Jones for the beta and encouragement.

 

In all honesty, what was wrong with him? Alec stomped out his cigarette angrily and kicked his foot against a wooden post in the boathouse, and once more for good measure. He leant against it and looked across the lake, raindrops dancing over the water, stirring up the reflection of the landscape.

Since Mr Hall had left, the weather had cooled considerably, as if he took the last warmth of the fading summer with him. Well, he said he should call him Maurice, but he didn’t even write to him. He had just amused himself, hadn’t he? If his words about everlasting friendship had been true, he would have sent him a letter by now, or visited again. But somehow it didn’t seem like it, he had been so passionate and sensual, starving for his touch. He had melted under Alec’s hands, overwhelmed by his desire and unable to resist. It must have meant something to him, too. And those beautiful things he'd said, they had felt like the truth as he whispered them in his ear or breathed the words over his skin. The way he'd begun to explore his body in return, clearly Maurice had never shared such mutual craving with anyone else before. He was so shy at first, but deliciously eager. Alec had to admit that he's been with many girls before, maybe too many, but that one night had been so different compared to everything else he'd ever experienced.

He just couldn’t stop thinking about Maurice; the way he'd looked into his eyes, how he'd smelled and how his hair had felt as it slid through his fingers. Concentrating on his work was almost impossible with those images popping up in his head, but since he was leaving soon, no one seemed to care.

There wasn’t much time if he wanted to see him again, he couldn’t just sit here and wait for him. One more night, only one. But it wouldn’t be easy to leave him then. Or just one last kiss if that was all he could get. Or simply running his fingers through his blonde curls one more time, maybe that would be enough. He would be honoured to be that friend to Maurice, the one that would last his whole life, but it wouldn’t work… He would have to keep the memories of him treasured in his heart. But if there was a chance that he could see him again, he would take it.

Taking a deep breath, Alec went to the little room where he often dwelled, reading books he nicked from the library and wishing he was somewhere else, far away. Here he felt safe, his personal hiding space where no one would insult him or order him around. He grabbed the few sheets of paper and the pencil he had swiped earlier from the study and also the small wooden board that was usually used to bar the window in the winter. Wrapping his scarf around his neck, because it was starting to get cold now, he went outside again, still unsure if writing a letter to Maurice was the right thing to do. But what else could he do? He could go to London, but that was already his backup plan if he wouldn't get a reply.

Sitting down in one of the boats, he wanted to fill the paper with loving words so badly that he didn’t even know where to start. He had never done this before, writing a letter to someone so precious to him, there had simply never been a person he ever cared about so deeply, even if he barely knew him. The moment he'd looked in Maurice’s eyes for the first time, he knew he was going to make him his, no matter what. So he did and now he couldn’t let go. Remembering that look on Maurice face when he watched him in the greenhouse, suddenly the words were flowing easily. He looked angry, because Alec was there with two giggling girls in his arms and not because he stole those grapes. And gentle, because he felt it too, the connection.

Putting down all his longing into words, Alec wrote with hope that Maurice would understand. That he would come to him to give him the chance to properly say farewell to the only person he could ever imagine loving so fiercely.

 

_Dear Sir,_

_Let me share with you once before leaving Old England, it’s not asking too much. Come to the boathouse, I have key and let you in. Pretend to the other Gentlemen you want a stroll, it’s easily managed, then come down to the boathouse._

_I, since cricket match, do long to place both arms around you and share with you. The above now seems sweeter than words can say._

_Mind and write if you don’t come for I got no sleep waiting. So come, without fail, to boathouse Pendersleigh, tomorrow night._

_Yours respectfully, Alec Scudder, Gamekeeper to C. Durham_


End file.
